Princess and the Frog: The Countess of Souls
by MissScaryKitty
Summary: Princess Gloria goes to New Orleans seeking to win Naveen’s heart only she doesn’t know he's already found his true love. The Countess of Souls sees an irresistible opportunity for personal gain and strikes an interesting deal with her rival Dr. Facilier
1. Chapter 1

Princess and the Frog: The Countess of Souls

One of Naveen's many old flames, Princess Gloria, comes to New Orleans seeking to win Naveen's heart only she doesn't know he has already found his true love. Finding Gloria wandering the streets alone and crying The Countess of Souls sees an irresistible opportunity for personal gain. What will happen when The Countess strikes a deal her rival Dr. Facilier to get help from the other side?

**Prologue: The Countess Meets Her Future Rival**

"_The Evening Star is shining bright so make a wish and hold on tight. There's magic in the air tonight and anything can happen..."_

Five years ago:

Isis looked out onto the Mississippi as she made her way down the riverside. Her old black T-strap heels clicked in the lonesome night with every step she took. She had a ratty carpetbag in one hand and an old leather trunk in another. Exhausted she set down her effects, dropped the carpetbag beside them and plopped herself down onto the trunk.

Sighing heavily she looked at the flowing waters of the river that glittered in the darkness. A party boat steamed on by, it glowed almost magically on the black waters. She could see figures of richly dressed people dancing to upbeat jazz which to her sounded only like a faded melodic whisper from her place on the riverbank.

Her stomach then growled in protest as she thought of all the delicious and decadent food they must be enjoying. It had been a full day since she had last eaten anything. She'd spent the last bit of money she had on a pack of new tarot cards. Her last set had been burned in the fire along with most everything else she owned. She sharply drummed the tips of her red painted nails on the trunk lid annoyed from thinking of her current dilemma. However despite all the things she lost she was lucky to have been able to salvage what she did.

She then ran her fingers through her long wavy hair she looked down at her bare legs; she didn't have enough money to afford nylons and she was freezing because of it. The dark green skirt of her drop-waist dress only went to her knees and she had no coat to warm her, only a very thin and useless black shawl around her shoulders.

The moonlight made her exposed skin look ghostly pale and somewhat blue. However the unusual color could be blamed on account of the chill that had settled on the wind. Hugging her slender arms to her chest Isis shook her head in defiance,

"Come on Isis, you're better than this." She told herself, papery voice sounding like she was scolding herself more than anything.

Looking out at the riverboat she bit her lip, bitter jealousy radiated off of her as she watched the crème of society dance the night away without a care. They never had to worry where their next meal would come from or if they had a place to spend the night and weather out the storm. All of their days were sunny and bright. They never had to sit out shivering in the rain or wait in line at the soup kitchen. Her brow knit together in anger as she tore her eyes away from the celebration.

"You will rise above this." Isis vowed as she got up off her trunk. Grabbing up her belongings she began to drag them down the sidewalk once more. "You'll show them all, and then they'll be the sorry ones," she grumbled.

It had been five whole days since the fire and she could still smell the smoke even now. And as she recalled the smell of the burning shambles of her old home thoughts of hatred and revenge ran through her head. Never had she been despised like that before, beaten out of her own city like vermin. She had to make a new start away from Savannah and New Orleans was the best place to do it.

* * *

Dr. Facilier exited his Voodoo Emporium and stepped out into the lamp-lit streets to find a few more saps to drag in for a tarot reading or a charm before he closed down for the night. His bright, purple eyes searched around for a miserable soul with little spirit to trick into buying into his schemes. He didn't quite feel in the mood to work too hard tonight.

The people who walked by all avoided looking in the direction of his alley, some even picked up their pace; anything not to get caught in The Shadowman's grasp. He had a silver tongue that could charm a serpent much less an honest working man. Most people feared that dealing with him meant they were dealing with the devil himself, not to mention trying to tempt fate and that was never good.

Facilier watched the fools that passed him by through hooded eyes and sighed in boredom. He was just about to give up when something very interesting caught his eye, a woman. She carried an old carpetbag on her shoulder and drug a large heavy trunk on the ground behind her. She was somewhat of a sad sight, but that was not what interested him.

There was a spark in her that he decided he liked as he watched her heatedly yanked her bags down the sidewalk with determination, clearly she had purpose. Looking at the bags, the young woman was obviously new to these parts. However she was not new to the city scene. Although her impoverished appearance and status would deter the snotty men of high society he saw she truly was a beauty; catching the attentions of men on the streets and in the bars who all gave her hungry looks and catcalls as she passed by. He could tell she wanted so badly to snap at them but pretended to ignore the men instead, smart girl he thought. It was all so wonderfully twisted, he thought to himself while watching the bruised flower.

She was thin but curved in all the right places, her skin was as white as moon beams and her long, wavy flaxen hair seemed to almost float around her angle face which, if you looked at her the right way, you could see had a dash or two of the devil in it. There was something very otherworldly about her that he couldn't quite place.

That's when he saw them, the tattoos scrawled on the back of her hand. They were chains of skulls, plants, and moths all elaborately inked in black along with the roman numeral 13 (XIII) in the middle. The number corresponded with card 'Death' in the tarot. She was a voodoo witch; they were kindred spirits in the arts. His eyebrow rose at that thought and his famous devil-on-the-shoulder smirk just grew wider.

He then noticed her shadow moving freely from her physical body, giving the men who ogled her angry glares and dirty looks. How did he miss that before, he wondered as he chuckled at her shadow's particular ferocity. Strange indeed, he thought to himself. The wheels then began turning in his mind; allowing himself a sly grin, he then followed her with smooth cat-like grace.

Making his way between the street cars and automobiles in the road he came to the other side of the street, his purple topped cane clicking between each step he took as he walked up behind the woman. The men who catcalled and wolf whistled at her immediately stopped when they saw him enter the scene and went back to nursing their drinks. No earthly man, woman, or beast wanted to mess in the affairs of The Shadowman.

Facilier got up right behind his prey but she was none-the-wiser, even after the men on the street had left her alone. She cast glares at the folks around her, daring them to say another word to her, thinking that she had won over them. If she only knew what really made them stop, Facilier thought to himself amused. His shadow reached out to caress her shadows hair when Facilier himself leaned in close to her and drawled in her ear,

"I was over on the other side of the street thinkin' it's a shame seein' such a pretty honey like you down on her luck."

Hearing the seductive voice and feeling the hand in her shadow's hair Isis stopped in her tracks, her heart freezing in her chest. Facilier stopped as well, not missing a beat. He was only inches behind her now. Isis turned around sharply and stared up at the man who she noticed towered over her. Judging by his odd clothing choice and death's head top hat she could easily discern that he was a voodoo witch doctor like herself, which she was not too happy about. Her acid green eyes looked up at his piercing violet hues through her long inky lashes.

"I'm not down on my luck," she informed him, showing complete disinterest. "I'm moving in."

Facilier grinned at her blatant obstinacy; either she was unfazed by his actions or she was very good at pretending.

"Where'd you come from?" He asked, gazing down at her through hooded eyes.

"Nowhere good," She said, her raspy, papery voice caressing the night air.

This man's melodic voice caressed her and felt like the sweetest honey but she was smarter than to be fooled by a handsome voice and a friendly smile; she often used that tactic on customers herself. But nonetheless she could appreciate how skilled he was at using it. However being enchanted by her own kind never worked out to anybody's benefit. It wasn't good for business and that was the only thing she wanted at the moment. Men with mysterious purple eyes and seductive voices would have to wait.

"Let me guess," he drawled, discreetly catching a glimpse of the train tag on her trunk, "Savannah?"

"Good guess." She said the corner of her mouth turning up in sly amusement; she was very well aware of how he figured that one out. All the usual ticks weren't going to get him anywhere with her, besides it was getting late and she had places to get to, he would just have to seduce someone else into entering his parlor.

"I would love to chat more, but I really have to be on my way now." She began, but Facilier stopped her from leaving by casually placing a hand against the side of the building they were standing next to.

"Where you goin'? There's nothin' down that road for you that I can't help you out with right here. But then again…" he said slipping his long fingers into her left hand and bringing it up for both of them to see the tattoos on it "… you already know that." Isis felt a cold chill go up her back. This man was something else, and she was becoming very uncomfortable over the fact that she couldn't quite catch onto his game.

"Look I don't want any trouble, okay? I have to get my food ration before the soup kitchen closes down and I'm sure you have better things to do than waste your time with me."

Facilier chuckled darkly,

"Who said you were in trouble?" He said raising an eyebrow and leaning in on his cane. "Look honey, a pretty girl like you shouldn't come to New Orleans and have to live from hand to mouth."

"I shouldn't? You don't even know me."

"Perhaps not, but there's somethin' special in you, I can see it, besides no pretty lady should be left out in the cold. Perhaps ol' Dr. Facilier could help you out."

Isis almost did a double take upon hearing his name. 'The Shadowman', she thought to herself. That was when she noticed that the streets around them were almost empty. Her heart started to beat a bit faster now; this was the cities most notorious witch doctor. If he figured out who she was things could get ugly. Facilier wanted to laugh noticing her reaction but held back.

"You wouldn't want to help me if you knew me." She said now avoiding his gaze.

"If that's the case," Facilier said with a devilish smile, "chances are I would like you even more." He then curled a long slender arm around her shoulders. "What's your name baby?"

"Isis." She told him, her usual purr of a voice now coming out clipped. She didn't appreciate his hands on her.

He raised an eyebrow at her curt answer, "You got a last name?" He was clearly amused by the whole thing.

"No," She said pulling away from him and grabbing for the handle of her trunk so she could continue on her way, she needed to get out of there. "It's just Isis."

Her thin shawl then slipped off of her arm as she reached down and picked up her bags. That's when Facilier spotted another tattoo going up the inside of her left hand and arm. The tattoo was of her hand and arm bones, making her whole arm look like it was her skeleton. Also the silver skeleton key around her neck that had just caught his eye was more than telling. Rumor had it that this particular woman kept the souls of men in that key; hints her name:

"The Countess of Souls," He said in almost a whisper, he looked a little taken aback. "You're movin' down here?" He asked. She was the most cunning voodoo witch in Savannah or so that was the last he heard.

"Yes, I told you that you wouldn't like me if you knew me." She sighed then began to continue on her way. He just had to pry, she thought beginning to yank her trunk behind her. Facilier pursed his lips, slightly displeased at finding out who she was. He then cooled his emotions noticing that she was walking away.

She got about two steps before Facilier was up walking alongside her, his cane clicking on the sidewalk as he slipped his hands on her shoulders once more, his long fingers wrapping around her arms. He smoothly steered her around so that they were walking in the other direction towards his shop,

"You think I'm upset? I assure you sweetheart it's not like that at all. After all a little rivalry is healthy." He said with a showman's smile. "I'm a gentleman of good taste with an eye for talent." He said tightening his grip only slightly as he felt her hesitate; they were now across the street and halfway down his alley. "I think we could… help each other out."

Isis could no longer put up with his disturbing persistence. Nor could she stand to be taken advantage of one moment longer, she had to get out of that alley and back onto the main street.

"Really?" She asked innocently, her small, raspy voice sounding like a child's as she looked up at him; her seductive toxic green eyes looked almost doe-like. "Well that's interesting because this card told me I'd be getting really _close_ to you in the future." She said holding up a tarot card that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Facilier immediately stopped leading her down the alley and looked down at the card she was holding to her chest. His breath caught in his throat and a lusty warmth overtook him as he spotted the wanton look in her eyes as she gazed up at him, her pouty lips looking like sweet promises yet to come. Then, quite unexpectantly she flipped the card around in front of his eyes and smacked it into Facilier's face with her other hand knocking him off of her.

"Don't fool yourself Facilier," she spat, her words full of venom as Facilier regained his balance. "I'm competition not a companion you can just pick up."

He glared daggers at her his violet eyes glowing; it took everything in him not to lash out at her. Regaining some of his gentlemanly air he was finally calm enough to speak, his voice's tone however was dangerously low, "I'm going to pretend that didn't just happen and offer my services one more time." He now stood to his full height so he towered over her. "Your refusal would be unwise."

Isis gazed up at him, her resolve remaining firm, "Dr. Facilier, may I remind you that we have the same set of friends."

"Maybe so but I have a feeling that at the moment I carry a little more favor with them than you."

Isis started taking small steps backwards out of the alley, her eyes still trained on him, "You can't intimidate me like some poor gal fresh off the bayou."

A devilish smile spread across Facilier's face, "Then why are you backing up?"

Isis pursed her lips in frustration; how dare he say she was scared!

"Because," she began heatedly, "only an idiot would be stupid enough to hang around in a dark alley with you."

"Ha! You've got some fire in you little lady. I have to admit that one was pretty good. Now come on," he said motioning for her to follow him. "I'm not the boogeyman. All I'm tryin' to do is get you out of the cold."

"And this is in exchange for what _Facilier_? I don't need your help, I can make it in this city perfectly fine on my own."

Facilier only laughed at that, "You think you can take on New Orleans all by yourself with no cash, no home, and no job? Don't make me laugh." He said, his tone condescending. "You might have been hot merchandise in Savannah but this here is the big time and by the looks of it you're already way in over your head. See that road out there?" He said pointing to the street with his cane, his other boney hand on her shoulder. "The difference between pickin' me or that road is the difference between actually living and just... surviving."

Isis shrugged him off of her and picked up her bags, "Well, we'll just have to see now wont we?"

Facilier stared at her retreating form, crossing his arms over his chest, "Suit yourself mon chere but don't say I didn't warn you."

He watched with a fiery stare until she was out of his sight. Bending down, Facilier picked up the tarot card Isis had smacked in his face. Turning it over and looking at the image on the back let out a laugh. It was the 'Lovers' card. Ironic, he thought as he slipped the card into his inner jacket pocket, saving it for later. The little Countess of Souls just might be bested yet.

Perhaps it was because her eyes were colored a solid, glittering green, or perhaps it was because her lips were painted a glossy blood red, or her skin was so warm and inviting to the touch, or perhaps it was because all her eye teeth were a bit sharper than they should be but Facilier found something he rather liked in her, something he thought he liked very much and he wasn't about to let her just walk away unscathed.

"Till we meet again chere." He said patting his jacket pocket.

Strolling into his domain he snapped his fingers and the troches outside the Emporium were extinguished.

AN: Hey everyone I hope you all liked the begnning! Thanks for reading and please review, I get chapters out a lot faster when I get feedback.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: **Isis and Her New Beginning**

Isis spent her first night in New Orleans in an old rundown sugar mill. The place had been boarded up tight however she managed to break in through a window in the back. Cold gusts of wind blew through the dank building keeping her awake all night as well as the bellowing horns of the steam boats on the river. After that night she swore that when she finally managed to claw her way back into society she would never suffer like that again.

She got a job in a small shop that made and decorated hats. The woman who ran the millenary boutique had felt sorry for her situation and offered her a job. Isis never told her what her profession was for fear that she would be booted out onto the streets again. So she practiced her voodoo at night in the storeroom where she was given a cot to sleep on.

Isis worked all hours of the day from opening till closing so that she would be able to buy her own place very soon. Mrs. Worchester was a kind woman but Isis hated being dependant on someone else. Especially someone she was sure would disapprove of her dabbling in voodoo, she had to get out of there as soon as possible.

After countless months of hard work and slave labor Isis was able to afford her own place. It was located above a French bakery called Laffite's. Naturally she could only afford the top level of the building but it was her shop as well as her home. Regardless it was in a busy spot in the city and the bakery below made everything in her attic-shop smell warm and sweet.

She was a natural at attracting customers, men mainly. However there were a few unfortunate looking women searching for love charms or beauty potions. She lured her customers in by showing off a little leg and a lot of décolletage or dropping sickeningly cute lines like "Hey handsome, why don't you drop in for a spell?" or "Can I charm you gentlemen into having a cup of tea with me?" It was borderline ridiculous at times but she knew what the people wanted… Show. Who was she to deny them?

She always had tea or coffee on the stove to serve her guests as well as a plate of pastries from the store below. After years at the business she found that people could seldom turn down such a generous invitation as tea time with the alluring Countess of Souls. However back then she was just a mysterious stranger.

Sometimes she could feel a familiar set of purple eyes linger on her from the street but she paid it no mind. In fact she made it into a bit of a game not to notice when Facilier would show up in her neighborhood. Isis knew it would make him mad, and she was happy for it. It somewhat stimulated her when she was bored and proved to be a good time when the day was bright and good. Still he had yet to ever visit her shop. Isis was of the opinion that if he did, she might actually enjoy his company being that they were two sides of the same coin and all.

Isis wasn't exactly loved in the city, a trade's woman and dealer in the dark arts never was considered respectable company, but when someone needed some dirty work done she would always come highly recommended. The only other witch doctor who stood as a genuine threat to her was Doctor Facillier. Although he was currently the go-to-doctor she was rising in the ranks quickly. He can't stay on top of the ladder forever, she told herself.

That day of reckoning came sooner than she thought. Facilier jumped in with the sharks and found himself in a heap of trouble. His 'friends' didn't take a liking to him making them promises he couldn't keep. Even though Facilier jumped through loopholes like a circus dog jumps through hoops, he finally found himself at the end of the line this time; and it was all because of some business with two little frogs.

* * *

AN: Sorry I've been gone for so long. Hope you like this chapter, it's short but there's some really good stuff yet to come :) it just didn't fit in here. Please Read and Review!


	3. Chapter 3

One Year Later:

It had been a long time since the good Dr. had been sent to his grave by his so called friends but Isis found herself needing him alive now. She never thought that was going to be a necessity to get what she wanted but there seemed to be no other way to go about it. If she was going to pull of this next grandiose plan of hers she was going to need the help of another witch doctor, and there was no one she had more confidence in than Dr. Facilier. The only trouble was that he was dead… no, worse than dead. However she would soon remedy that as well.

Isis pushed open the large, twisted, iron gate to the cemetery and smoothly made her way down the cobblestone path. Her black sequined heels glittered and clicked with every step she took. Her eyes searched each headstone on the path until she came upon the one she was looking for, Facilier's.

Isis cringed upon seeing Facilier's expression in his last moments of horror etched into the headstone, "Yeeesh." She said picking up her feet and taking off her heels.

Now barefoot she stood on top of his grave mound. Taking the hat and cane she retrieved from his quarters in the Emporium she stuck the cane into the wet soil at the head of the mound and set the death's head top hat on it. Reaching into her small beaded purse Isis took out a short tallow candle and a pack of matches.

Isis sighed realizing that her dress wasn't exactly the right attire to be wearing in a muddy cemetery, "Dear Lord." She said rolling her eyes and kneeling down in the wet dirt anyway.

Striking the match Isis lit the candle and set it down on the ground in front of her. Closing her eyes and murmuring some incantations, Isis clutched onto her silver key and attempted to make contact with Facilier's soul.

She was then violently ripped from the corporal world and sucked into a vortex of yellow haze that lay somewhere between the living and the dead. Muffled screams and tormented cries filled the space around her an occasional soul would listlessly float down the vortex, swiping aimlessly at the toxic colored fog. The lamenting beings in the space filled her soul with a heavy darkness in which she never quite experienced before when entering the spirit world.

"Hello?" She called into the yellow void. The only answer she got was her echo. The souls that floated by her moved their distorted mouths but nothing would come out. Their near shapeless forms grabbed at their throats in panic, trying to scream out as they were sucked down the void. Never had she had a connection as dark and twisted as this. "Dr. Facilier can you hear me?"

She was about to exit the spirit world when she heard Facilier call out,

"Countess…"

Isis turned around to meet the familiar yet desperate voice. She saw Facilier being pulled down into the void by shadow demons. He angrily beat them off of him yet they still came back for him.

"Get me out of here!" He yelled at her before he was dragged down into the murky yellow haze. Isis sucked in a sharp breath as she watched the soul of her deceased rival being overtaken by demons. Once he was completely submerged the yellow haze blew away and was replaced by an acrid green hue.

"Countess of Souls" A booming voice called from behind her. Isis jumped around to meet the carved faces of her 'friends', the gods of voodoo.

"Friends, I have come to beg for the soul of Dr. Facilier, the Shadowman."

"Why would you want to rack up such a high debt to acquire something so useless as him?"

"It is true he has failed you once in a task similar to the one I am undertaking however I find that his help is needed now that his soul is bound to the other side."

"Countess, is this a plot to save Facilier?"

Isis couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, "Save him? Friends let's not be coy, you know our history. Trust me if I could have found anyone else to do this I would have. He is the only one who can help me pull it off."

The heads were silent for a moment, considering her words before speaking. "Sharam and Lebos have him." They informed her at last. "If you can manage to get his soul from them then you're free to have it."

"Thank you friends," She said with a wry smile and a bow. "It should be a snap."

"Wait Countess!" The middle head commanded, his voice booming through the mists. Isis straightened up immediately. "Like Sharam and Lebos, we understand that you are somewhat a collector of souls as well. Promise you do not intend to merely try and deprive them of Facilier's soul for the glory of it."

Isis shook her head with an amused smile, "I assure you it's nothing of the sort. I'm more of a manipulator of souls rather than a collector; I'll let you decide Facilier's fate after I am through with him." She said baiting them a little with the promise of the witch doctor's soul. "Besides, I have a debt to pay back there would be no point in angering Sharam and Lebos _and_ disappointing my friends. That would just be… stupid."

"Yes, it would Countess." They warned. "You may go now."

Isis bowed once more, "Thank you my friends."

Sighing Isis extinguished the candle she held with her thumb and forefinger. Closing her eyes she felt her soul gently exiting the spirit world. It was only when her bare feet touched the gritty mud of the cemetery once more that she opened her eyes.

"I have a better chance at punching out the devil than getting his soul." Isis muttered as she pulled his cane out of the ground and took his hat off of it. Sharam and Lebos were soul collectors and vicious mercenaries for the gods. She would have better luck trying to give eyesight to the blind than to pry a soul away from their claws, especially Facilier's.

Fingering the brim of the top hat she spotted one of Facilier's hairs clinging to the inside. Pulling out the hair and twisting it in her fingers she smiled. "hmmm of course there are loopholes."

Isis spent the rest of her night in Facilier's home collecting strands of his hair for her plot. The next night she returned to the cemetery with Facilier's hat and cane and her tallow candle.

AN: Sorry I was gone for forever, I was gathering ideas hahaha please leave a review!


	4. Chapter 4

Isis spent the rest of her night in Facilier's home collecting strands of his hair for her plot. The next night she returned to the cemetery with Facilier's hat and cane and her tallow candle. Driving the cane into the dirt once more, Isis lit the candle and entered the spirit world.

A snaky green mist swirled about her feet as she called an audience with Sharam and Lebos. Her hair was suddenly swept back by a sour gust of air, her candle almost being extinguished by the swift force of it. It felt like someone's hot breath on her, but really it was two demons raising up from their levels in the spirit world. Isis didn't have to power to go down to the lower levels and seek Sharam and Lebos out- she had to ask to see them. Luckily they humored her with their presence. That was the first obstacle in her way that she had just surmounted.

"What do you want woman?" a high pitched, grating voice asked. It was Sharam, a feather headed bird-like creature with yellow eyes and spidery hand with sharp talons on the ends of the fingers. He was a tall, bent and sickly looking creature whose lack in strength and girth was well made up by his partner Lebos. Lebos was round and fleshy with three squinty eyes in the front of his bald head. He had rolls of hairy, sweaty fat all over him and moved slowly due to his size. The reason for Lebos' obesity was because the prison in which they threw their collection of souls into was inside Lebos' stomach. They both had a hunger that could only be fed by gathering souls and slowly devouring them. What fed Lebos also fed Sharam and together they prowled the underworld looking for prey to hunt down.

Isis looked over at the two slowly coming out of the gathering mists. She nodded to both of them, gripping Facilier's hat behind her back. Her palms were sweating like mad which only made her clench her fists tighter.

She gave the two demons a customary bow and then proceeded to speak, "I've come to beg for Dr. Facilier's soul. I understand that you have it?" She asked, her papery voice surprisingly business-like and professional.

"Yes you're right," crowed Sharam. His eyes then narrowed as he snapped, "But why should we give it over to you?"

"Because I need Facilier to assist me in a plot," She explained, her eyes carefully trained on the two. "Trust me, if I am a success the score will be unimaginable."

"Ha!" Barked Lebos his laughter rumbling up from his giant stomach. "You're just another witch doctor from New Orleans embarking on a foolish crusade in order to gain the favor of the gods."

Sharam shook his head slowly, a wicked smirk spreading across his sharp-beaked face, "You think they would learn after the last one." He scoffed.

Isis held her composure as she took their ridicule, "Well for what it's worth I would like to beg for his soul all the same."

"You can't have it little woman," Snapped Lebos as he threw his weight around. "Now get lost." He said pointing off into the swirling mists.

Isis shrugged, a little smirk appearing on her face. "I guess I'm just going to have to do this the hard way then." She sighed as she brought Facilier's hat around in front of her to show them.

"What is that ridiculous little fetish in your hand?" Sharam said pointing a claw at Facilier's hat. He stared at it in confusion and amusement, foolishly thinking she was trying to pull some cheap trick on them.

Lebos let out a cruel laugh, "Pathetic woman," he said poking her hard in the chest. Isis stumbled backwards slightly at the force. "How weak do you think we are! You mistake the Mercenaries of the Gods for a mere mortal man? Utter foolishness."

"Forgive me for my ignorance," she said backing up, her head bowed humbly. "I'm merely trying to persuade you."

"You think you can, as you so clumsily say, persuade us with _that_?" Cried Sharam. He found the woman's situation more amusing by the second.

"No," she began with a sly grin. "With this…" she lit a match and turned the hat around where there was a lock of Facilier's hair stuffed into the red ribbon. The two spirits gasped in horror and clawed at her hands to grab the hat away. But Isis jumped backwards out of their grasp and held the match closer to the clump of hair in warning so that they wouldn't dare come any closer to her.

"You cunning little witch!" Sharam screamed, desperately struggling to reach her.

"I'll burn it, don't think I won't," Isis warned, glaring at the two demons. Her eyes flashed wildly in the light of the flame and they knew that she was not lying.

"You burn it and not only do we die but Facilier as well." Said Lebos; trying to reason his way around her plan. "You're whole aim was to save his soul, you wouldn't kill him."

Isis shook her head, "He's already in a hell far worse than one I'd be sending him to if I killed him. At least this way it's a clean death. So don't think for one second that I won't burn you all to cinders. Now get back, both of you and get me what I came for." She ordered.

"Yes, yes of course," Sharam nodded his ugly, feathered head obligingly. "Lebos bring out Facilier."

Lebos stumbled back a bit not quite believing the position they were in at the moment. His mouth was agape in shock but he nodded at Sharam's words in understanding. He then plunged his hand into his stomach to retrieve one of the thousands of souls stored there.

"They're just so many of them you know?" Lebos said pulling out jar after jar of souls. The small bottles fell haphazardly to the ground, some breaking open and freeing their contents as Lebos hurriedly searched for the one that contained Facilier. "This one that one, they're all the same to us. Please don't think we meant any disrespect little woman." He said trying to make amends for his earlier rudeness, hoping that it would aid in her decision whether or not to let them out of her grasp.

"I'm sure you didn't, I just want to collect his soul and leave." She told him, barely caring what he had to say to her just as long as she got Facilier.

Finally after some intense rutting around, Lebos pulled a bottle that was labeled Facilier out of his stomach.

"Here, here it is, take it!" Lebos cried pushing the jar into her hands. Balancing the jar, match, and hat in her small hand Isis backed up to her candle.

"Thank you very much." She told them before kneeling down next to it. She blew out the match, picked up the candle and snuffed it out in the dirt. A loud, harsh wind then sucked her back into the land of the living. Isis went toppling backwards onto the ground, her feet nearly went flying over her head. All the candles she had lit were blown out and the dead leaves on the ground viciously scattered in the wind.

The lid to Facilier's jar popped off and Facilier himself came tumbling out on top of Isis. Facilier and Isis just stared at one another in slight disbelief as the last few gusts of wind escaped from the portal. After all had calmed down the spell between them broke.

"You dare play chicken with my life woman?" Facilier yelled grabbing her shoulders and pushing her into the ground, his face was only inches away from hers.

AN: Facilier is back!... but in what capacity? Just wait and see. Please let me know what you think.


End file.
